Mountain Paths
Lonewolf ran over the plains, on a straight path to the mountains, crossing fields and roads, crops brushing her bare legs. She moved at a steady pace, faster than most people could keep up. The barbarian was eager to make her way towards the Eternal Wanderer, who would probably save her the trouble of having to teleport to Esgara or Isparan.
Without looking back she felt the other three following her, but only Ishra could keep pace with the long-legged barbarian. Lonewolf moderated her pace grudgingly. For all her willingness to help people, she had little patience for the weak, when she was on her own quest. Little did she realise, how great her physical and magical power were. After all she had earned it through years of battle and training.
Ishra caught up with her, but only looked at the barbarian and kept pace with her, not wasting breath in idle talk. When Braktus and Nirahr caught up, she said: "Can you guys keep up, or do I have to summon steeds?" Nirahr shrugged. Being near his girl-friend seemed to vitalise him enough to keep up with her and Ishra. Braktus, who was a bit heavier, on the other hand managed to say: "Yes."
The young mage thought about it for a time without stopping. Finally she decided to call a dragon. It appeared with a terrifying roar, but landed and held out a wing in an incongruously docile manner. Lonewolf walked up on its back, followed by her three companions. The dragon was a magnificient creature with red scales and green leathery wings, its head reminding of an intelligent crocodile. It moved through the air with amazing grace and speed, but Lonewolf was worried about the dragons that made their home in the mountains.
Quickly the haze at the horizon cleard into majestic mountains, which rose so high, even the dragon was not sure it could fly over them without freezing dangerously. It said something in a language only the young mage understood. Lonewolf sighed. "Set us down at the foot of the mountains," she replied in the same tongue. "We will have to climb on our own from there. I need to find someone."
The mountains, which had looked small and easy to scale from the back of the dragon loomed before them majestic and terrible. The rock was mostly bare and cold in the shadow. It was the northern side of the range, were little grew. Lonewolf climbed easily and naturally. Ishra had believed that she had seen far more stark and greater mountains in the planes, but these rocks were no less challenging.
Braktus was climbing with frightening ease, even more so considering his bulk. He was even able to quietly give his wife a helping hand, when she needed one. What the massive thief lacked in endurance in running on the plains, he more than made up with his climbing skill. Ishra wondered, who their barbarian leader found her way.
It was only waste of slate, jagged from erosion and sharpened to dangerous edges in many places, for the small warrior. There was no vegetation, no landmarks to follow and many places that would cut the hand trying to touch it. Ishra was quite thankful for the armour she was wearing, but Lonewolf led them on a safe path unerringly. There was not a single sharp rock formation on their way that hurt them.
"She is helping Nirahr, when she thinks we don't see," Braktus said softly. "Why shouldn't she care for her lover?" she returned even more quietly. Ishra was pulled up by her husband once more. The four companions had now reached a small plateau and could walk for a space. The barbarian did so with her typically fast pacing, then she suddenly stopped. "There is something odd here," Lonewolf said.
At first Ishra did not see much more than a washed out area of rock, which might have been covered with paintings long ago. The rain and perhaps a rock avalanche or two had eroded it. Now it was just an unrecognisable stain. The young mage knelt and touched the ancient paint. It rippled and became a strange symbol for a moment, than it faded into a stain again. The expression of Lonewolf was worried, when she turned to the others.
"This has only faded a day or two ago. Someone is messing around with time here. We better hurry, before the effect hits us." She picked up a rock that looked solid enough at first. The barbarian squeezed it with her hand. It crumbled to dust. Ishra gulped. Lonewolf ran to the edge of the plateau and began to climb again. The small warrior understood that she would not give them an opportunity to rest any time soon.
After mastering three more climbs, Ishra and Nirahr were too tired to go on, but Lonewolf knew this was not a safe place to be. There were indentations in the rock speaking of falling boulders. The young mage shook her head. She should have distanced the others and done this alone.
She summoned a potion and gave it to her lover. He drank half of it on her command and gave the rest to Ishra. Lonewolf knew the magic would give them much needed strength. "We have to go on," she said calmly. There was no mercy in her smouldering eyes. They had chosen to follow her, so they had to keep up.
When they had climbed another cliff, the barbarian said: "We should reach an actual pass within an hour... two hours. Then we can just walk along without having to climb much. I think the broken seal we passed was part of the magic that imprisoned whatever is stirring beneath our village. These wards or more widespread and tricky than I thought. I really have to find out, what we are facing."
Another two climbs later, the barbarian halted again. This time there was a serious hindrance. The rock was cleft in front of them and the distance to the other side was too wide to jump. Lonewolf looked towards one side and then to the other. There was no end to the rift. "I hope you like to fly," she said and summoned wings on herself. She flew to the other side and the wings disappeared once more. Nirahr received them next and handled himself suprisingly well.
"I have to figure out your previous form," she said softly. "I want to forget it," he spoke. Ishra flew clumsily, while the dextrous Braktus crossed easily. Lonewolf took the wings from him and knelt next to the chasm. She felt its edge carefully. Rock crumbled at her touch. Lonewolf felt into the darkness with her magic. There was the feeling of manipulated time again. A creaking sound warned of an earthquake.
Lonewolf retreated from the chasm with serious haste. The spirts of the mountain or the landscape itself were beginning to heal the wound. A process that would be accompanied by dislodging of loose rocks and precariously hanging formations. There was no time to loose, but the barbarian took herself a moment to visualse the area, as she remembered it. A navigation mistake could be fatal.
She opened her eyes and scanned the area. It had been changed violently, but Lonewolf saw the path they had to follow. The young mage led with her reckless pacing, caring little, if the others were able to keep up. She had to reach the safety of the guarded path, before she was killed by the earthquake that she already felt in her bones.
Ishra was able to keep up, but the effort strained her more than anything she had done since the Blood War. Several times boulders passed them dangerously near, but by some miracle or the magic of Lonewolf none of them hit the companions. The surroundings seemed to become more hostile with each passing minute. The small warrior wondered, if they were still in the material world, or if they had shifted into some layer of the Abyss.
There was no feeling of permeating evil. It was only the wrath of tortured nature, shaking off the unnatural effects of magic and raging against the terrible power tormenting it. Ishra still climbed as though a horde of demons was chasing her. She concentrated so intensely, that she did not even feel, that the hand that pulled her up belonged to Lonewolf instead of Braktus.
A wall of rock loomed before her. The barbarian pushed them on. The earth shook seriously now. Under an area of overhanging rock they stopped. Lonewolf put her ear on the wall. After a surprisingly long time, she turned to the others. "We should survive the earthquake here. It will be unpleasant. I will prepare some magic, in case something does go wrong," she said and sat down with her back to the wall. Nirahr sat down next to her. She put an arm around his shoulders.
Ishra and Braktus followed the example of Lonewolf. The earth shook violently. There were the sounds of crashing rocks. Boulders flew past them, hit the ground and disappeared into the darkness. Rock was groaning with strange strains and tensions. The mountain itself seemed to dance in terrible rage. Ishra felt the previously solid rock against her back move. Reality became soft.
Once again Ishra found herself in the strange aquarelle of her surroundings, that had saved the caravan. Here the difference was greater. There was another path and there was no frightening earthquake. "Do not underestimate the power of nature," Lonewolf said. "Civilised fools think they can tame the land." Ishra was in no mood to argue.
The barbarian led them through the surreal landscape, seemingly sure of her path, but she stopped once or twice, sniffing the air and looking at the landscape. Suddenly the world became solid once more. "Tricky magic," Lonewolf muttered. Ishra did not really care. They were on a smooth way, that may once have been created by the work of hands. Now it was washed smooth by the rains of centuries. The earth was quiet.
What she did hear, was the sound of speech. There was no way to tell its direction or distance in the convoluted labyrinth of rock. The language also seemed strange, but that could just be the distortion. Lonewolf listened to the speech, as though she did understand it. Unlike Ishra, the barbarian was able to make out the direction of the speakers. Ishra wondered once more about the acuteness of her senses.
After rounding several corners, the small warrior saw a tall human woman talking with a group of even larger creatures. The woman was even taller than Lonewolf and heavier. Her eyes were the colour and strength of steel, lit by a glimmer much like that of the young mage. She had curly auburn hair and full lips, formed like those of the barbarian. The woman wore a white blouse and pants of worn dark leather that had been brown once. A large sword was by her side, but she did not touch it.
Lonewolf joined the strange conversation with the creatures, whom Ishra recognised as trolls. She had seen one or two of these deformed and horrible beings since coming to this world. They were ill-tempered and violent, but these listened to the two woman with strange patience. Suddenly one of them leapt at Lonewolf and her sister. Both moved with lightening speed, drawing their weapons and moving to the side.
The troll missed them. Lonewolf cut off one of its legs with the sword of fire, the other woman hit it at the knee with her sword. It was a blade of crimson steel with a serrated edge. The creature fell on its face and the two woman stabbed its backs viciously, turning their backs on the other trolls. Ishra reached for her own sword, but the other creatures did not lift a finger or weapon to help their mate.
Ishra saw the reason for this, as the creature died. It was of unstable form and shifted into the a shape even more unlovely than the trolls. The corpse was a pale vaguely humanoid shape with a fanged face that would befit a fiend. What kind of terrible monster was this?
"Are you ready for this?" the tall woman asked. "Yes," Lonewolf said. They turned to the trolls and spoke something in a tongue even more alien than the one before. Ishra felt the power of ancient magic in their chant. She turned to the trolls, who seemed to shrink and shed their odd deformities. When the transformation was done, they were still large beings, but of straight and noble bearing. One of them, probably the leader, talked to the two woman politely.
The trolls walked away from the humans and settled down. The tall woman turned to face Ishra. "And so we meet again, little fool," she said with a smile. Ishra stared and stammered: "Egania... Iron Doom?" A hint of sadness crept into the smile of the woman. "Why didn't you tell me you had a sister?" the small warrior asked, quickly recovering. "I am her daughter," Lonewolf said. "One should think, that two thousand years are more than enough to get rid of that name," quoth Egania.
"Fiends have long memories," Ishra said. "They don't seem to like you much, but they speak your name with a hint of dread." Egania looked at the small warrior with her iron eyes. "I have saved your live and made sure you were paid several times. Demons respect power. They will try to backstab you, but I am used to that," she spoke. "You are not as strong, as you think."
The woman was taller than Braktus and her shoulders were broader, but she was feminine and moved with lithe grace. Ishra also sensed the power of a magician, perhaps greater than that of Lonewolf. There was also an additional veiled source of strength. The small warrior shivered involuntarily. "You don't make deals with fiends," Egania said. "No matter how clever or strong you think you are, they always win.
"You will need the strength given by the River of Steel, to be of any help to Cathy, when fighting the creature beneath the village," Egania spoke. "How do we find the River?" Ishra asked. "Cathy?" she added as an afterthought. "The River of Steel finds you," the Eternal Wanderer replied. "Tomorrow you will enter its labyrinth, but now you have to rest."
"My name is Catherine Visad," Lonewolf answered the other question. She turned to her mother and said: "You have already researched the enemy, saving me a good deal of trouble. When did you intend to tell us what you found?" Ishra was surprised by the singular focus of the barbarian.
There was no way for the small warrior to know, how much effort it had taken Lonewolf to control her magic, which had almost consumed her. The endless struggle against her wild blood and the fight to achieve the self-discipline necessary to control and master her power. The focus that had made her into the mage of terrible power she was. Now there was little that would get between her and any task she had set herself.
"The creature is called a phane in the books of lore. It has power over time and is probably a relic of the Spirit War or the Blood Dance. You have probably passed one of the wards on your way. It was an intricate system of magic spread over a wide area of land and maybe even through time. Seems like this was the best they could do, when they were not able to kill the thing. But after millennia even magic fails," Egania answered the question of her daughter.
"Did you really receive no warning?" she asked. "We found a group of adventurers with an important message, but they were killed by swamp war trolls, before they could deliver it. I don't know, why they didn't tell me," quoth Lonewolf. "I suspected that the village was built over an old temple. It was a blessed life for the village, but they should have known, that ancient powerful magic holds terriböe ancient powerful secrets."
"We need to find a sheltered place," Lonewolf said, looking at a red sunset. "This is going to be a cold night." Egania said: "There is a suitable pace nearby." She led the group at the same pace Lonewolf had. The young mage looked at the others, wondering how they perceived the quickly falling cold.
The horizon turned to a soft rosy hue. The sun seemed to sink into the sea to the west, turning the mountains themselves into a land of enchantment with its late light, which held little warmth. Egania smiled. "I have missed the sun and its cycles on the planes," she said. Ishra opened her mouth and closed it again.
She had felt the power of raw nature unleashed in a terrible earthquake, seen the almost painful beauty of the sunset. Ishra wanted to say that the intensity of the planes was far greater and more intense, but this raw material world with its reality felt better, felt more right and more natural. A part of her nature felt like immersing itself into this world more strongly, while another tried to pull her into another direction.
Rock beetled over the passage. Ishra was not sure she could trust its solidity. after what had happened earlier on this day. A fireplace had been prepared beneath the stone. Egania lit the twigs with a small magical flame. The four adventurers settled down and looked at the flames, feeling their warmth. Lonewolf curled up and fell asleep. Nirahr rested near her, but his eyes were open, reflecting the fire more than they should. Braktus was dozing with his eyes open.
"You will have to go on without Cathy," Egania said gently. "She does not need the strength of the River of Steel. She will expect you on the other side. Sleep and approach wary and rested. I will keep guard." Ishra stared at the tall woman and shivered. The woman who feared neither devil nor demon was now afraid of becoming lost in this harsh mountain range.
Yet in the arms of her husband she found her calm again. He was breathing deeply and regularly, more exhausted than he had admitted. Ishra cradled herself into his arms and smiled. They were more alike than she had thought. Slowly her eyes closed and she fell asleep peacefully.
"I shouldn't go," Nirahr said. Ishra and Braktus had already moved along the path, as directed by Egania, but the warrior was reluctant to follow them. "You know who I am, what I am. I have no idea, what will happen, when you are not there." Lonewolf said gently: "Hold on to all I have taught you and you should be fine." He sighed. "There is also something about Ishra, that rubs me the wrong way. I can feel something terrible in her. I cannot vouch for myself, when I stay near her."
"Don't stay near her," Lonewolf said. "Hold on to your human side and don't allow the demon within to take control." He looked at her doubtfully. Then he shrugged and followed the other two. Nirahr caught up with them easily. Ishra was moving far more slowly and cautiously then the barbarian.
"Does he know?" Egania asked. She had come up to her daughter silently. "Know what?" Lonewolf said. "He knows who his parents are, but I did not tell him, he is still bound." The Eternal Wanderer looked at her daughter with her iron eyes. "I do love him, but I am too smart to fully trust him yet," the young mage said. "He doesn't really realise who powerful you are," Egania spoke.
"You don't know any fey who could help us?" Lonewolf asked. "One of them would be more helpful then these three idiots. They will just get themselves killed. I can walk through time, if I have to, but they will barely distract the abomination. It's a shame I cannot dissuade them." Egania said: "At least you have an insurance for your boy-friend, though he will probably not be too happy about it."
"I don't know," the young mage said doubtfully. "Where will he go, when he is unsummoned? He could be with his mother in the Abyss, which he will not survive. He could go to his father, who is a decent enough person, but might be busy with his new partner. It could also be the Summoning Limbus, because he has no true home. He has moved away from the way of the demons and his home in the village has been destroyed."
"I think he will reform right next to you," Egnia spoke. "Your love is the only true home, he has." Lonewolf did not agree. Her mother understood magic like few others, but not the kind Lonewolf wielded.
Roland wondered, why so few of the villagers decided to permanently move into Nurm. Even if Lonewolf was successful, there was a good chance, that the village and the harvest would be completely destroyed in the battle. Most of the fields had probably already been trampled during the battle. He shook his head. The villagers believed the adventurers to be fools, but the commander knew they were the greater ones.
They had a tent roof over their had and enough food and drink. It seemed the king of Nurm was a smart man, who had expected the refugees from Jundar. Roland closed his eyes. He hated sitting around and waiting for others to fight the war. He was a commander of large units of armies. He knew all too well, that battles were won by action, not be reaction.
He opened his eyes, as he heard the soft steps of a woman. Roland looked at Dak'Yzal. She was a shapely, athletic middle-sized woman with black hair and hazel eyes. She seemed to be a bit younger than he remembered her. "What worries you?" she asked gently. "I am not sure I can trust the four adventurers to end this threat." Dak'Yzal shrugged. "They were capable enough to save us in the battle. The mage reminds me of the Iron Doom. Do not underestimate her. You are really worried about your son, aren't you?"
Roland looked away. "There is a strong resemblance," she said. "I don't want to talk about it," quoth he. Dak'Yzal turned his head to face her. "You have chosen the wrong woman two times at least," she spoke. "Chose the right one this time." She smiled. The commander looked at her lips, der décolletage, her form and saw for the first time, how beautiful she was.
There was no guile in her hazel eyes, only honest affection. She was right. He had been deceived by women two times. Could he afford to try another time. One look at the woman near him gave the answer. He hugged and kissed her and seduced her gently.
"When a god dies, it is truly gone. The name, most of the faith, its appearance, almost everything about it is forgotten in an instant, leaving a dangerous emptiness in the hearts of its former faithful. Usually a god dissipates, or becomes a gigantic corpse in the astral plane, but sometimes they do not go quietly. They still lose everything, including their name and former personality, but what remains behind becomes a terrible and bitter creature, constantly raging and destroying and infused with that divine spark that makes it so hard to kill.
"This is what you are facing. There are at least two major Events in the History of Sak Dakyb, when entire pantheons were obliterated. The Spirit War, were the fey killed the gods to save the mortal races from their terrible and fiendish influence. The other is the Blood Dance, which I have seen with my own eyes. Fools started holy wars, which slaughtered the faithful, thus weakening the gods. Then the infamous Blood Dancer was drawn to them and slew the gods.
"Titanic corpses fell from the sky, breaking the land into islands and the far smaller continent it is today. I have only learned later, what had led to the Blood Dance, for we of Norgund had little to do with the gods. I spent more time with orcs, ethar and fey, than with humans," spoke Egania. She smiled ruefully. "Maybe I should have kept it that way. Sometimes I wish I could return and make some other choices."
"If timewalking was that simple, history would be even more of a mess than it already is," Lonewolf said. "People would try to go back in time a lot to further their agendas. I can only watch and bind creatures of other times, but I cannot actively do something. I could watch Roland being seduced by a demon, but I could not stop them from siring Nirahr. Even if I bound the demon and summoned her, it would not be from the specific time and event, even if she is dead now."
"You do know?" Egania asked. The young mage chuckled. "I always knew he is half demon. I found out later that Roland is his father and he is definitely not a fiend, though he probably had a few woman too many, when he was young. It seems he grew up with his mother in the Abyss, were he was enslaved by the evil mage Mepharel Shadow. I stole him from that bastard, but he was stronger than me back then and I had to flee."
"He is dead," Egania said. "He murdered your father for no apparent reason. I figured you would not be safe either, as long as he lived. I gave you to friends of your father to grow up and hunted him. I never thought it would take me that long. The bastard gave me a merry chase across the entire multiverse, until I realised he was a planeswalker. I changed my approach then and was finally able to confront him. It was a tough battle, but in the end I prevailed.
"I think he really wanted to kill you, feeling your aptitude across planes. He got to your father first and than ran away, fearing my power. Maybe he thought he was the mage." Egania sighed. "He did keep me from raising another child, though you turned out well enough." Lonewolf locked gazes with her mother. "You are more powerful than my friends, more powerful than me. Why don't you help me?"
"You did well enough without me so far," Egania said. "I cannot help you. My magic does not overcome the power over time the abomination has, unlike yours. It would just freeze me and kill me." She smiled. "I prefer to stay alive. You should go to the palace of Emanastaria. There you will find the help you need. I know you can teleport or shift there. I will ask my old friend Antonia Numinus, if she can do something, but I think you are on your own."
"I cannot abandon my friends," Lonewolf said. "They will not make it out of these mountains without my help. They are all children of civilisation. We are barbarians bred and raised to a life in the wild. Even I have to wait for reality to align itself with area of the village. There was a delay until my mana arrived, when I last used magicthere, which might kill me when fighting the phane." Egania thought about this and spoke: "I think this was not caused by your enemy, but by the wards that were supposed to stop it from gathering power, which may not yet have faded entirely."